


Love On Fire

by Yukikosnow139



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashirarepairweek, M/M, bleach crossover, day 2: crossover, no real knowledge of bleach is needed!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukikosnow139/pseuds/Yukikosnow139
Summary: "AND that's when Keiji pushes me to the ground, dagger digging into my throat!” Tooru exclaims, feet happily dangling from the chair he sits upon. His white hatori sits on his shoulder like a cape, the black inking of the kanji for two sits squarely in the middle.Akaashi rare pair weekDay 2: Crossover (Bleach)





	Love On Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So I love Akaashi. And I love Oikawa. I love this rare pair. 
> 
> Day 2: Crossover (Bleach)

  
The infirmary is packed. Hurried men and women race from one end of the room to the next, their black _Shihakusho_ seem like the waves at night. Patients sit upon the beds, most are chatting away to their friends as other shinigami work on them.

“Kaidō #4, _Shiraberu_ ,” Keiji says, hands outstretched to the timid girl sitting before him.

His hands glow a light turquoise and stay that way as he moves his hands from her head to her legs; she's healthy, which Keiji takes note of. He nods to her, indicating that she's free to go. When she stands, she only comes up to his shoulder and that's with the small tuft of blonde hair she has tied up. She bows, a almost mumbled thanks before she's turning around to leave.

“Yachi-san, can you please tell Squad 11 to come back after lunch.” Keiji requests.

“Yes, Lieutenant Akaashi!” Yachi bows once more, turning back around and making her way to the doors, meeting up with her teammates, Hinata and Kageyama (the two men arguing over something). The door closes shut behind them, only to be opened a second later as the same amount of patients that had been inside the room, leave.

Keiji lets out a slow breath, trying to loosen his shoulders as he rolls them; it has been a long day filled with using copious amounts of energy to check over other shinigami and to heal the minor abnormalities found. The room is much quieter than it had been a moment ago and Keiji finds himself thankful to his squad, they managed to quickly get through two squads at the same time. His eyes flicker around the room, taking in the emptiness and the slumped forms of his squadmates, which he wants nothing more than to copy.

Konoha and Onaga are laying on one of the beds, Konoha’s limbs haphazardly thrown over Onaga. The latter has his hands covering his mouth as he yawns. Komi and Sarukui are in similar positions on the bed next to them, with the exception that Komi is laying at the foot of the bed and Sarukui is at the head of it. Washio looks rather awake, but Akaashi can tell he’s tired from the way his grip on one of the medicine bottles looks loose. The rest of their squad is out, doing visits to those who couldn't come. And their Captain..

“I never wanna get uppppppppp,” Bokuto groans the last syllable out, face buried in a pillow.

His white _haori_ is rumpled, the black curve writing of their squad number (four brush stroke that make a box, with a stroke that curves gently in the upper left corner, and a stroke that makes a ‘L’ on the upper right corner) stands out against the fabric. Grunts of agreement sounds around the room, all of them are exhausted after checking over six squads in less than four hours. There is nothing more that Akaashi wants to do then to go home and crawl into bed, curling up underneath the covers to slip away from the world. However, they have thing they need to do to prepare for the next squad and if they want to eat they all have to get a move on.

Keiji prepares to attempt to convince Bokuto (with no help from his squad) to get up and do his ‘captain-ly duties’.

* * *

  
It is late evening when they are finally done checking all the squads, all of them healthy except for a few that have to come back to be examined again. Keiji gives a wave of goodbye to his captain as the eccentric man heads in the opposite direction, the taller figure of Kuroo next to Bokuto. By just the dim torch lights lighting the road, Keiji can vaguely see the two holding hands as they walk. It’s cute, Keiji notes. The two playfully bump each other, most likely joking about something.

Keiji feels a bout of loneliness curl inside him, leaving his stomach with a nervous feeling and heart as if it had been dropped. It has been so long since he was able to hold hands with his husband, even longer since he’s seen him. The last time had been over a year ago, with the early summer sun pouring into their room. Keiji remembers the way his husband’s hair curled a bit more than usual with the humidity (he laughed when Keiji pointed it out, throwing a comment back about the lieutenant's own curls). His eyes looked like the honey they stirred into their tea each morning, Keiji remembers it clearly as those eyes had been trained on him. The last time they even touched was a simple kiss to the side of his head, anything more intimate and it would have been hard to let go.

Keiji realizes that he has been standing in the same spot for the past few minutes, he starts to make his way home. He is not usually one for sentimentality, preferring to focus on the present and on facts rather than feelings. However, even if he tries not to think too much, he misses his husband gravely. Most people think him cold, his face never shows anything (his husband (Bokuto too) will deny that) that he feels or thinks. The truth of the matter is that he’s just not expressive in what’s considered normal ways, but that doesn't mean he doesn’t _feel_. Love, all the pain and joy, is something he feels strongly; he compares it to types of heat. The love for his patients is much more dull and the love he feels stems more from the love of healing. It's the gentle touch of the morning rays, awakening and soothing, but sometimes annoying (especially when there's difficult patients). The love he feels from his friends and teammates is a campfire that sits in his chest, there to offer support and shelter from the cold. It's the type of love that may change, flickering while I grows and decays, but never goes out. There's always a match, someone, to keep that flame burning.

The love he feels for his husband is different, it's a fire that is similar to what he feels for his friends. Steady, a pillar and guide that reaches out to give support. Always there, always shining as a beacon when he’s tired or scared or sad. Never let's him forget that he's alone. It's one he feels towards healing, soothing. At the same time that love is a raging inferno, searing a path through his body, lighting up all his senses until he’s bare. Down to his nerves, climbing deeper than that until it nestles so far down that it feels as if he can't breath, it chokes him with emotion (in a way that is pleasant). However, there is also the destroying wildfire that accompanies his love, one that has him in biting arguments with his husband. Keiji hates when that happens, but knows it's part of any relationship (there's always going to be something one doesn't like about the other, it's love, not infatuation). It's sparks in small ways, much like a cigarette being thrown into a dry forest (a comment here. A habit there). Luckily, there's always something (something indescribable) that puts out that nasty flame. In a crazy way, it's the other fires that destroy the wildfire (fight fire with fire, his husband would say).

(“You’re being awfully poetic today, Keiji,” he would say, laughing)

Keiji Is hastily pulled out of his inner musings as he senses another’s spirit energy. It's quickly approaching, possibly using some type of shunpo, but there doesn't seem to be particularly aggressive. Still, Keiji brings his dagger out, hiding in the sleeve of his uniform. The trees rustle (barely, but Keiji hears it) for a split second before a black figure darts out. In a fluid movement, Keiji has his dagger pointed at his assailant as the person lays on the ground. It's easy enough to use a person's momentum and weight against them.

“Keiji! It's me,” a familiar voice pleas.

“Tooru?” Keiji questions, grip loosening as he takes a look at the man on the ground.

It most definitely is Akaashi (neé Oikawa) Tooru, he's covered in black (then again who isn't really of you’re a shinigami). The black hakama he wears is tightened at the ends with white bindings, but the bottom half of his face is covered with a cloth. His hair is longer, straighter looking as it's tied in a tight pony tail. His eyes, dark from the lightning, stare imploringly at Keiji. As if asking him if he's done with their stare down. But mostly, his stare is filled with longing.

“Honey, I'm home~” Tooru sings, a grin on his face.

Keiji doesn't say anything to that, instead he lets the other man go. Tooru is quick to get up, dusting himself off and straightening his clothes out; Keiji silently snorts at the Tooru-ish thing. Still, he finds himself staring at his husband. It's obvious he just came from his mission, the clothes are a bit rumpled and dirty. He looks healthy (he’ll have to thank Matsukawa for looking out for him, making sure he wasn't too focused on his mission). If possible, it looks as if he got a tan too as his skin looks a shade darker than it was when he left.

“Did you come right from your mission? Without debriefing?” Keiji questions, it's a rather cruel sounding question especially with how long they haven't seen each other.

“Keiji~ your beautiful husband comes back from a year long mission and you greet him with a dagger to the throats and some cold questions,” Tooru fakes a hurt expression, hand over his heart.

“Tooru, you’re wearing black, you were also coming at me quickly,” Keiji says, a flat unimpressed look aimed at his husband.

“Details. Details,” Tooru says, face open. However, his laugh falls and a tender expression takes place. “I missed you, Keiji.”

His hand is reaching out, gently cradling Keiji’s cheek. Tooru’s touch is warm, rough from years of training, but gentle in the way he touches Keiji. He’s closing the distance, pulling Keiji closer and holding onto him. He’s only a inch or two taller than Keiji, but it's enough to have to tilt his head up to kiss Tooru.

“I missed you too, Tooru.” Keiji says once they pull apart.

 

* * *

__

_There's a flame that’s burning. It's gentle, easy to touch. It’s a greeting, a promise to forever (if possible). A renewal of the promise to come home. It's that small campfire, but it burns even brighter than that._

_It's the flame of love that death can't stop._

.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“AND that's when Keiji pushes me to the ground, dagger digging into my throat!” Tooru exclaims, feet happily dangling from the chair he sits upon. His white haori sits on his shoulder like a cape, the black inking of the kanji for two sits squarely in the middle.

Bokuto, who is suppose to be doing paperwork, hoots out a laugh (an honest to God hoot). Kuroo, who snuck out of his own paperwork to hang with his boyfriend, let's out his own laugh.

“I thought I was going to die, for a split second I thought my love was going to kill me,” Tooru whines, a pout playing at his lips.

“Find what you love and let it kill you,” Kuroo says, a wise look lasting on his face for half a moment before he’s laughing.

“Shouldn't you be dead then, Captain Kuroo?” Akaashi questions from behind them.

All three jump, Bokuto lets out a screech of surprise as does Kuroo. Tooru, falls backwards only to be caught by Keiji’s hand.

“Oh my gosh, if we weren't shinigami I would think you’re a ghost. How do you move so silently?” Bokuto wheezes out. He's clinging to Kuroo, an arm wrapped around his waist. Kuroo’s own haori is scrunched beneath Bokuto’s hand.

“Why are you here Tooru? Don't you have work?” Keiji ask, ignoring his captain and squad 12’s captain.

His grip loosens on Tooru’s arm, but still he keeps contact with him. Tooru’s face blooms into a beautiful smile, a soft curl or his lips and some crinkles around his eyes. Keiji finds himself a bit breathless, that smile will be the death (second death?) of him. Dimly he hears Kuroo mutter something about them, which sounds suspiciously like “loveful fools”

“I brought you lunch, since you forgot it,” Tooru says, holding up his bento box.

“Ah, thank you,” Keiji says, his own smile blooming on his lips.

Tooru finds himself with the exact same thoughts as Keiji has. Beautiful. It's rare to see a smile on Keiji’s face and Tooru feels even more proud to be the one who put it there. It's leaves him with a warm feeling in his stomach, it's pleasure derived from making Keiji happy.

“This makes me feel kind of bad,” Keiji says.

Tooru is about to question that, but the infirmary doors burst open. Iwaizumi, with his black shihakusho and ripped sleeves (that pop out his biceps) look intimidating as he stands in the doorway.

“Shittykawa, we have a fuck ton of paperwork to finish. So let's get your ass back to the barrack,” Iwaizumi says, stalking forward.

“No! Oh my gosh,” Tooru jumps up, a screech flying past his lips. “Keiji protect meee.” He hides behind the lieutenant.

“It was your husband that called me,” Iwaizumi cuts in, sending a grateful look to the other lieutenant.

Tooru is surprised and Iwaizumi takes the moment to quickly bind him with a Kidō. He picks him up, ignoring his protest and looks at Keiji. The man is calmly looking on as if what's going on is a normal occurrence.

(It is)

“How could you do this my love!” Tooru calls.

Keiji is unfazed by it all, he has long gotten use to Tooru’s dramatics.

“As Captain Kuroo said before “find what you love and let it kill you”. I do remember you saying you love your job,” Keiji calls out.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (1)- Shihakusho: Uniform all soul reapers (shinigami) wear. [Click here for image](http://bleach.neoseeker.com/wiki/File:Shihakusho.jpg)
> 
> (2)-Kaidō is a type of healing spell. Took shiraberu from 調べる, which (if I'm correct) means to investigate. So it's a spell to check on the health of a patient.


End file.
